Epitome of a terror teacher

She was my terror teacher imagination-come to life

I dreaded the day I would enter junior high. I dreaded it not because school was going to be harder but because I had this insane feeling in my gut that ‘she’ was going to be my teacher.

Sophomore year was my first encounter with her. I saw her teaching a junior class when I passed by on my way to the canteen. The class was unusually quiet. It was not helping that she looked like those terror teachers I’ve watched in cartoons when I was younger. From that day on, I got scared of her.

When I was younger, I spent the rest of my elementary years in a Passionist school. Teachers were strict there. I had to endure a class where I had to sit and keep quiet all the time while my classmates get assaulted with harsh words. I was scarred by that memory ever since.

Ms. Abella was fair-skinned and had black curly hair. She looked like an evil witch out of a fairytale. It did not help that she always wears red lipstick. Everything was good during the first day of class – it usually is. I always held on the thought that after a month or so, she would change and become the terror teacher I’ve always imagined her to be but she never changed.

I am now in senior high. I now have a different English teacher but I wish it was her. Ms. Abella was caring, thoughtful and fun. She laughed at our antics that other teachers would get annoyed to. She never got angry whenever my classmates would randomly stand during one of her discussions and dance. She was patient and never left the class without a smile gracing the day.

Fair-skinned. Black curly hair. Rouge lips. She was the epitome of a terror teacher at first glance. She proved me wrong though. She may have an appearance of a terror teacher but… she’s far from that.

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Unpublished. Practice article for DSPC (2012)